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altfor bekjendt Blik blive Blod Brev Charakter Childe Harold Coleridge Digt Don Juan dybe Død Edinburgh Edward Fitzgerald Eiendommelighed elsker engelske England faldt forskjellige forstaae Frankrig franske Frihed frygtelige føler følgende følte føre første gamle George give gjennem Goethe Grækenlands gaae gaaer havt helt hendes Hjerte holdt Hoved hvorledes høieste høre Haand Irland irske Jorden Kain kalde Keats kjende Kjærlighed Konge Kvinde lade Lady Land Landor levende Lidenskab lige ligesaa Lord Byron længe læse Mand Menneske Moore Mænd Maade maatte Napoleon Natur Naturalisme Newstead ning næsten Poesi poetiske politiske Prindsregenten Prometheus Ravenna Reise Robert Emmet Robert Southey Romantik sagde Sandhed Sang Satire seer Shelley sidste Sjæl skildrer skjønne Skotland skrev snart Southey stod stolt stærkt staaer synes Søskolens saadan saae saaledes Tanker Thomas Moore tilbage Træk tænke Udtryk Venedig Venner Verden virkelig Værker Walter Scott Wordsworth Øie Øieblik Øine Aand Aarhundredes
Page 251 - OH ! BREATHE NOT HIS NAME. OH ! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid ; Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.
Page 251 - Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn, Thy tears shall efface their decree ; For Heaven can witness, though guilty to them, I have been but too faithful to thee. With thee were the dreams of my earliest love ; Every thought of my reason was thine ; In my last humble prayer to the Spirit above, Thy name shall be mingled with mine.
Page 430 - From the loud roar of foaming calumny To the small whisper of the as paltry few, And subtler venom of the reptile crew, The Janus glance of whose significant eye, Learning to lie with silence, would seem true, And without utterance, save the shrug or sigh, Deal round to happy fools its speechless obloquy.
Page 417 - And all things weigh'd in custom's falsest scale ; Opinion an omnipotence — whose veil Mantles the earth with darkness, until right And wrong are accidents, and men grow pale Lest their own judgments should become too bright, And their free thoughts be crimes, and earth have too much light.
Page 519 - My days are in the yellow leaf ; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone!
Page 519 - Tread those reviving passions down, Unworthy manhood! — unto thee Indifferent should the smile or frown Of beauty be. If thou regret'st thy youth, why live? The land of honourable death Is here: — up to the field, and give Away thy breath! Seek out — less often sought than found — A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.
Page 269 - Rebellion ! foul, dishonouring word, Whose wrongful blight so oft has stain'd The holiest cause that tongue or sword Of mortal ever lost or gain'd. How many a spirit, born to bless, Hath sunk beneath that withering name, Whom but a day's, an hour's success Had wafted to eternal fame...
Page 291 - I STROVE with none, for none was worth my strife; Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art; I warmed both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Page 276 - WHEN we two parted . In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss ; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow — It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame ; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear ; A shudder comes o'er me — Why wert thou so dear ? They know...